A More Dazzling End
by Xzeihoranth
Summary: Unhappy with the ending the universe gives them, the Luteces take their meddling one step further, with unexpected results. A rather sexual retelling of Episode 2, with a more, shall we say, satisfying ending.
1. Prologue

**Since my last attempt at a smutfic didn't work out quite as I anticipated, I tried to write another one.**  
**I'd just like to take this opportunity to tell you there will be no incest (unless kissing yourself counts), and no rape. Just good clean fun. (Don't let Atlas know though. You know how he is...)**

* * *

Silence on the empty sea. The waves are still, too still. The man and the woman in the little dinghy are lost in thought, contemplating the end.

The woman is the first to speak. "What a complete waste of time."

"Time?"

"Time is all we have, brother. I've lost track of how many hours we spent holding their hands..."

"And the moment we let go-"

"She gets her head caved in."

"Among other things..."

Silence again.

"I suppose that's it then." the man remarks at last, reaching for the oars.

"Don't be ridiculous." the woman says sharply.

"I'm not being ridiculous, I'm being reasonable. The signs were there. That is the way it has to end."

The woman purses her lips. "I never took you for a quitter."

"Rightly so, I expect."

"Are you suggesting we let the universe do what it pleases?"

"Wasn't that the idea?" He begins to row.

"The idea was to break the cycle. Something THAT will never bring about."

"He does save them."

"The Little Sisters are irrelevant. The girl is what matters."

"Apparently not."

The woman actually scowls. "Are you sulking again? You know it doesn't suit you."

He stops. "I daresay I'm a bit more upset than you. But I fail to see what can be done about it."

"There you go again, thinking like an ordinary scientist."

"How's that?"

"The universe is wrong. Killing her there doesn't solve anything."

"So it's _reality_ doing the sulking?"

"Yes. If you like."

"Then what do you suggest we do?"

"Go back to the beginning. Rewrite the laws of nature."

"What?"

"I refuse to sit about and do nothing while all our efforts go to waste."

"Are you sure that's the only reason?"

"I beg your pardon."

"You just proposed altering the fundamental principles of the universe to give one little girl a happy ending. We call that guilt where I come from."

The woman gives this some thought. "Hmm. Perhaps we're not so different after all."

"That wasn't so hard." He picks up the oars. "Where to?"

"We'll need a stable vantage point, unravaged by time and tide."

"Then I suppose we should start looking." With that, he starts to row once more.

* * *

**Some time later, or no time at all...**

"I..." He breaks off into a fit of coughing. "I never imagined rewriting the laws of nature...would be quite so _unpleasant_."

She nods in weary agreement. "I wasn't aware I still had bones that could be this sore..."

"Let's hope we got everything right. I'd rather not have to go through that again." he wheezes, struggling upright.

They watch the proceedings together, just as they've always done. Just as they always will.


	2. Surprise

Not for the first time, Elizabeth couldn't help feeling a strange sense of deja vu, as if she'd been here before. Which wasn't peculiar in and of itself, as she clearly had. The dress she'd left on a mannequin in the...adult novelty store (she still wondered what some of those devices were meant to do, and where...) proved that. But there was something else, something beyond that. Why else would her nose keep bleeding the way it did? Hardly the time or the place for it either; sneaking around furtively out of sight to avoid being seen...

"So what if they see me?" she asks herself, also not for the first time. "I have all of time and space at my command."

"I already said." the voice tells her, the voice she couldn't possibly be hearing. "This place is about to fall apart. One wrong move, one wrong tear..."

"And it's goodbye universe." she says. "Not just ours, but every one like ours."

"Exactly." the voice says.

"But...why do I need to keep hearing this? Why can't...why can't I see like I used to?"

"You're a little on-edge right now. Whatever happened...it was big. Real big. An' you're still gettin' used to the way things are now."

Elizabeth blinks back tears. "Booker-"

"I'm not Booker." it says. "We've been over this one too."

"You're a...compendium of...knowledge, is that it? All the things I've already been through in other worlds, trying to get through to me."

"That's it." the voice says. "You still ain't got your finger. You're still you. Even if y' don't feel like it."

"It's not nearly as bad as the siphons." she admits. "If I made it through that, I can make it through this."

"That's my girl." the voice tells her. "Just remember. You c'n use the tears in a pinch, but it'll cost you."

"Cost me what?"

"You don't wanna know."

Elizabeth staggers to her feet. "What I wouldn't give for a _bath_..." she moans. Some time ago, she'd decided that it was better to have sore feet than to try and sneak around in high-heeled-shoes. "'One who cannot cast away a treasure at need is in fetters.' And I've had enough fetters for a lifetime."

The radio whines into life. "You sure you're all right down there?" Atlas asks. "Never a good sign when y' start talkin' t' yerself."

"You'd know better than I would." Elizabeth drawls. "There a single one of your 'boys' that isn't jumping at shadows?"

"Not really. Some have it better 'n' most, but if ya see a few of 'em start t' lose it, give me their names 'n' what they look like. I'll try and give 'em a bit more ADAM next time they come in. IF they come in..."

"The voice of the people." she says sarcastically. "Just because you have what they need and you give it to them when they ask, doesn't make you a good person."

"I never said I was a good person, luv. I'm just doin' what needs doin'."

"Right..." She sets off for the stairs. "Speaking of things that need doing, how about when this is all over I drop by and thank you properly?"

Atlas chuckles. "Are y' trying t' seduce me, 'Elizabeth'?"

"That depends. Did it work?"

"You'll have to drop by an' see, won't ya?" Despite her situation, she can't help smiling. She'd never felt comfortable enough with Booker to try flirting with him (thankfully), and while she certainly doesn't feel comfortable around Atlas, enough of her powers remain that she's confident she can outmaneuver him and any tricks he tries to pull.

"Take it easy." the voice warns her. "Getting cocky's never done anyone any good. Just because he's human doesn't mean he isn't still dangerous."

"No sense worrying about that now." she tells herself. "I need to focus on getting that Lutece particle."

Suddenly, Elizabeth hears something different. A new voice, haughty and female, with that peculiar feeling of vagueness behind the words that can only mean one thing. A Splicer.

"They talk talk talk, but in the end they've got nothing to offer society. Just more mouths to feed." the woman complains loudly. Elizabeth ducks behind the nearby couch. Luckily, the woman seems to be lost in thought. "They always arrive with out-stretched hands. They're a tuneful people, I'll grant you, but so lazy." she mutters. Elizabeth peers over the couch, searching for any sign of movement in the overbearing darkness. Nothing. They're all alone. She readies the Air Grabber and creeps closer on stockinged feet to the lone Splicer, who still pays her no mind. "Audrey, Michelle, Peter, Thomas, William, Joseph... no wait, n-not Peter..."

Elizabeth takes a deep breath and raises the Grabber up high, ready to bring it crashing down on the poor woman's head. Suddenly, she slips. A bit of beaten cloth from the woman's dress had come fluttering down, and she, in a state of nervous excitement, had failed to see it. "How dare you touch me!" the Splicer shrieks, whirling around. She lets loose with a plasmid. Elizabeth soars into the air uncontrollably, narrowly avoiding banging her head against the ceiling. She reaches for her hand cannon, only to have it torn from her hand by another burst of Telekinesis. "You're stealing! I know it!" the woman screeches.

"I'm not stealing anything!" Elizabeth pleads, struggling against the invisible energy holding her aloft.

"No sense arguin' with 'em." the voice tells her calmly. "Grab your crossbow and let 'er have it."

"I'm trying!" Elizabeth says frantically.

"Don't you disrespect me!" the woman bellows out of nowhere. She makes another gesture and Elizabeth feels her clothing begin to loosen and drift away.

"What the hell are you doing?" she gasps, reaching in vain for her stockings.

"We have _rules_ here! I'm your better! I'll teach you your place!" The Splicer continues to rant and rave as she tears away the helpless girl's clothes. The blouse and skirt Elizabeth had been so enamored with are next to go, but just as the Splicer is about to undo the rest, the plasmid wears off. Elizabeth drops to the floor with a thud, landing squarely on her behind. The Splicer scrambles over before Elizabeth can regain her bearings (a sudden unexpected flight through the air can leave one feeling disoriented) and grabs her by the wrist. "You think you can just take what you want? This isn't the jungle!" the woman scolds her, hauling the girl up and marching her back over to the couch she had only just left. She sits down awkwardly and tugs Elizabeth down after her. "You'll regret coming here... mark my words." the Splicer warns her ominously. Elizabeth, torn between her natural desire to fight back and a strange tingling that had begun to build in her tummy, can only lie there over the older woman's lap as she fumbles with her undergarments. Finally, she's had enough and rips both bra and panties away in fury. A fragment of her former self returns and she pauses to straighten both her hair and her posture and reseat herself on the couch before returning her attention to the prostrate and thoroughly naked girl across her knees. "Now...where was I?" the woman says to no one in particular. "Ah yes, that's right." She rears back and brings a hand crashing down on Elizabeth's exposed backside.

"Ow!" she cries, but the woman's not done yet.

"You're worthless! You're nothing!" she yells, punctuating each remark with a fresh slap to the bottom.

"Ouch! Ow!"

"How dare you try and steal from me!" SLAP!

"I wasn't-ow!"

"Don't talk back to me!" SLAP!

"I...let me go! Ow! Dammit!" As soon as the obscenity left her mouth, she knew it was a mistake.

"Vulgar little tramp!" the Splicer shrieks, redoubling her efforts.

"OW! OW! Oh my God-OW!" Elizabeth squeals.

"Take his name in vain? Take that! And that!"

The spanking continues for what must be an age. Despite the pain and stinging the woman's punishment causes, Elizabeth finds herself thinking she might be able to enjoy it. _Maybe I deserve it,_ she wonders as the woman switches hands. _What I did to Booker...and Comstock...maybe I have been bad._ The thought sends strange feelings into her stomach, and below. _Am I really getting...turned on by this? Here I am at the bottom of the ocean, at the mercy of a drug-addled psychopath, and I'm...I'm getting..._aroused.

"Don't you think that's kind of messed up?" the voice asks suddenly.

_Oh, NOW you talk._ she grumbles inwardly, her own voice growing hoarse from the innumerable gasps and shrieks of pain.

"I mean, what would Booker think?"

_If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not think about my father right now!_

"Fine by me." the voice says, and is gone.

Elizabeth's bottom is a brilliant shade of red by the time the woman's finished. "You were deserving." the woman sniffs and pushes Elizabeth off her lap. Quickly, she manages to turn over before she hits the floor, landing on her stomach instead of her ass. "Don't let me catch you around here again!" the woman says, folding her arms.

"Ow..." Elizabeth whispers, rubbing her backside gently. "Don't worry, ma'am." she says, somewhat to her surprise. "I've learned my lesson." But the Splicer has already forgotten her and staggered off in search of something else. "Ugh." Elizabeth sighs, turning around to try and get a better look at the damage. "I need to find a place to sit _down_. And maybe a first-aid kit, _ow_."

She walks slowly away from the scene of her punishment, too wrapped up in her own pain and peculiar feelings of pleasure to remember her clothes. "What I really need is...sex." she says aloud and claps a hand over her mouth, shocked at her own vulgarity. No one is there to scold her or reprimand her, so she lowers her hand and wonders if she should say it again. "I probably shouldn't. There's no telling who might be watching." she decides. At least Atlas hadn't decided to listen in. Or had he?

Only much later, when she's hiding around the corner from a lumbering metal giant, does Elizabeth realize what she forgot. "Oh. Well..." She thinks long and hard about what to say next. There's only one word that will do, and she makes a note to chastise herself for it later.

"Fuck."


	3. Rest

Being invisible felt almost like cheating before. The Splicers are dumb enough as it is; did she really need to make it even easier on herself? But now that she's naked, Elizabeth decides that it's better to cheat than suffer any of the alternatives that don't bear thinking about. She uses the Peeping Tom plasmid a little more often now, pleased with the fruits of her labor her exploration provided several hours earlier. She clambers on her hands and knees through a vent, wishing now more than ever that she could find some hot running water to get clean in.

Suddenly she can't help it. "Booker?" she whispers.

The voice replies, "I'm not Booker-"

"I know." she interrupts it. "Just...humor me."

"...okay." it says after a while. "What is it?"

"Why don't I feel sad any more? When I...when it happened, I couldn't...couldn't stop crying..."

"You know why."

"No, I don't." she says angrily.

"Yes you do. You just don't want to admit it."

She tries to wipe away her tears, then realizes she doesn't have anything to wipe them on. "He's...moved on. He's with Anna now."

"Or...?"

"Or he's...he's waiting for me. Waiting _where_?"

"The end maybe?"

"What end? It never ends does it; it-it just goes on..."

"Everything has an end. You're going to get through this."

Elizabeth curls up in a corner, heedless of the cold metal pressing against her exposed skin. "I don't _want_ to get through this. I don't deserve it."

"Yes you do."

"I was...enjoying myself back there. I got _off_ on trying to punish myself for what I did."

"That doesn't make you a bad person." the voice assures her. "You've been through a lot. You're not well, Elizabeth."

"I know I'm not!" she shouts. Her voice echoes off the walls and down the vents before fading into oblivion. She sniffs. "You're not him, are you?" she asks finally.

"What tipped you off?"

"You don't...sound like him. I mean you do, but you...you don't talk like him."

"That's because I'm not." it says.

"But...then...why did you try?"

"Try what?"

"Try...sounding like him. You used all these 'ain't's and 'ya's. Why go to all that trouble to act like him when you keep telling me you're not?"

"I got...confused." it admits.

"Confused? You're not some compendium of knowledge after all. Who _are_ you?" Silence. The voice has gone. Elizabeth sniffs again and struggles to her feet. "I need a bath..." she whispers again.

* * *

"Oh _yes_." she coos. "Oh, come to mama..." She eases herself into the water. It's not warm, but at least it'll help her calm down. Nevertheless, her teeth start to chatter a little as she settles in. Unconsciously, her hand starts to move toward her vagina. She wishes idly for a mirror to see how her bottom is getting along. Every time she'd passed one outside, there had always managed to be someone nearby, and she didn't care to press her luck a second time. "Note to self." Elizabeth murmurs, leaning her head back against the tub. "Find first aid kit. They usually have some antiseptic cream; that'll help ease the sting..."

The memories overwhelm her and she starts to finger herself. Teasingly at first, letting the pressure mount just a little more, but it quickly becomes unbearable and she can't take it any more. "Mmmh..." she whimpers quietly, rubbing herself harder and faster, leaning into it now. "I need...oh god...I need to...oh, oh...ohh..." She reaches the peak of her ecstasy in no time at all, but even as she gasps for breath and falls back against the tub again, she can't help feeling somehow unfinished, unfulfilled. "Maybe I _should_ pay Atlas a visit..." she muses.

She nearly drops off to sleep before she remembers where she is. Shaking herself awake with a start, she climbs out of the tub and gropes around the room for a towel. "Ugh, I'm all _wrinkly_." she grumbles, pausing in a brief window of light to examine her hands. She spies a towel nearby and seizes it triumphantly. "Gotcha!" She spends a few luxurious moments drying herself off (patting down her bottom cautiously so as not to aggravate it) and stops at the window to gaze out. "Not a Splicer in sight," she marvels. "It's almost pretty until you remember how dangerous it is."

At last, she's ready to move out. Grabbing the large bag she uses to carry her supplies around, she heads for the door. "Next stop, anywhere but here."


	4. Control

**Warning: This chapter contains attempted rape. I say attempted rape, because only one party believes it's nonconsensual. The other one just likes roleplaying.**

* * *

Now that the cream she found in a first aid kit has had time to sink in, Elizabeth decides it's time to administer a little self-discipline. She finds a full-length mirror, but no suitable implement. With a sigh, she decides to use her hand.

She situates herself in front of the mirror, watching her reflection closely. She bends over and spanks herself as hard as she can with the flat of her hand. "That one's for swearing." she tells herself sternly, trying not to squeeze her legs together at the feeling. "And this one's for walking around naked." She slaps herself with the other hand now. It feels even better. She's run out of things to punish herself for, but she keeps going anyway, alternating hand and cheek and loving the way it looks when the blows come raining down. "God, I'm messed up." she says, standing up to admire her handiwork. Nice vibrant handmarks on each side. "Why do I like it?"

Her heart nearly stops as the radio crackles to life. "Are you really doin' what I think you're doin'?" Atlas asks incredulously. "You've got the whatchamacallit. What are you standin' around, chastisin' yerself for?"

Elizabeth grabs the radio hastily. "Give me a break. I've been sneaking around your goons for the better part of an evening. You wouldn't deny a girl a little downtime would you?"

Atlas sighs. "Look, the boys and I are gettin' impatient. Take the particle up to the top floor or I'll come after you meself. An' I'm warning ya, I'm not afraid to strike a woman. Not when she's askin' for it."

She scowls. "And here I thought we might be getting along."

"I didn't say _where_ I was gonna hit ya." he says, a trace of his old levity back. "Now move it, sister."

Elizabeth resists the urge to snap an ironic but pointless salute, grabs her things and leaves.

* * *

The whole building shakes. "You've done it! Lord have mercy, you've actually done it!" Atlas crows in delight.

Elizabeth scrambles down off the desk. "I may be many things, but a liar's not one of them."

"An' neither am I." Atlas tells her. "You wait right there, I'm comin' up to thank you in person. Alone. I'll have some of my best lads take the girl down t' the nearest bathysphere. It can take you as far as the surface. After that, you're on yer own."

"If they hurt a single hair on her head..." Elizabeth warns him.

"They won't. I'll see to it." he assures her. "Stay put. I won't be long."

* * *

Atlas seems almost surprised when he emerges from the elevator to find Elizabeth actually wearing something. Granted, it's nothing special, just a long fur coat, but she'll be damned if she was going to stand around naked all day.

"I guess this is it then." he says, stepping forward and offering his hand. "Won't be seein' hide or tail of you after all this, will I?"

She looks critically at his hand. "I make it a point not to shake hands with murderers." she says coolly.

Atlas frowns. "I'm not a murderer, love. I'm a killer. There _is_ a difference."

She shakes her head dismissively. "Semantics don't interest me. All I care about is the girl."

"You really gonna go see her like that?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "You're not her mother, are ya?"

"Hardly. Just a concerned citizen." she tells him. Only a partial lie.

"Ah, well now. You sure you won't stick around? They'll give ya a heroes' welcome, once you put some clothes on. Unless you fancy the Godiva look..." She shakes her head again. "No?" Atlas walks over to her. If she didn't know better, she'd say he almost looked romantic in this lighting. "Are ya sure I can't persuade you to stay?" he asks huskily.

"And do what? Rule alongside you?"  
"If you like..." he murmurs. "Or we could do it on the desk every night. Up to you."

Elizabeth smiles sadly. "I don't want to rule. I don't want a heroes' welcome. I just want a normal life."

"Normal?" Atlas shakes his head in wonderment. "There ain't no such thing as normal." He walks over to stand by the window. "Every Tom Dick an' Harry out there's got their own tale t' tell. Some things change, some things stay the same. But you..." He turns his head to look at her. "You've done things an ordinary man could never dream of doin'."

"Flattery will get you nowhere." she drawls.

"I ain't flatterin'. I'm bein' sincere." Atlas leaves the window and walks slowly around her. Like a shark, she thinks. "I've seen what you do. Plasmids don't cover it. You open holes, these...gaps in thin air, you bring things in that weren't there before..." He stops, and whispers in her ear. "I'd count myself lucky if I had a woman like you by my side."

Suddenly she's tired. Tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of fighting, tired of flirting, tired of crying, tired of wondering why, why, why her?

"You seem to know an awful lot about me." she says over her shoulder. "I should've known you'd hacked the cameras." Then she turns to face him. "But I know a lot about you as well. I know you're not who you say you are."

Atlas takes it well. "Who is?" he laughs with a shrug.

"I know who you are. I know your name. Your _real_ name. And I know who you sent topside."

He laughs again, with the vaguest hint of menace. "I think you've been pushin' too many needles luv."

"You want me to prove it?" Elizabeth asks.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing?" the voice asks.

_I'm getting what I want._ she tells it.

She leans in closer. "Frrrrrrrrank..." she purrs. "...Fontaiiiiiiiiine."

"If all that were true..." Atlas's face is a mask as he pulls a gun from his back pocket. He points it at her. His voice changes. "He'd be takin' an awful big risk lettin' you walk around."

She gulps visibly. "Yes he would..."

"An' Frank Fontaine doesn't like takin' risks. So what would he do then?"

"He'd kill them." Her voice is small.

"Atta girl." His voice is thick with oil and scorn. "Unless of course, he got somethin' else outta the deal."

"What else would he want?" She sounds lost. Scared. Confused. In over her head.

"I guess that'd depend on what you've got."

"I-I've got money..." He smirks. "I've got weapons..." His smirk broadens. She looks at him desperately. "That's it..."

He pretends to think for a moment. "That's a nice coat you've got there." She turns red. "Hand it over." She blushes furiously, but takes it off and throws it to him. He catches it, rakes his eyes across her body, lingering at the spots she's chosen to cover with her hands. "Oh no..." she whispers.

He grins. "Bend over the desk, sweetheart."

"Please..." she whispers, making her voice quaver.

"Spread 'em." He waves her over to the desk with his gun. She backs away, holding her hands up pleadingly. "Now." Fontaine orders her.

Elizabeth feigns reluctance, feigns her knees trembling as she walks, feigns uncertainty once she gets there. "Bend over." he tells her again. She pretends not to know what he means and bends forward awkwardly. "Not like that." he growls. He marches over, pushes her head down until her nose touches the wood. "Like that."

"Please, you don't-you don't have to do this, I won't tell anyone-" she whimpers pitifully.

"Damn right you won't. Now you wait right there. Don't move a muscle." He spanks her roughly for emphasis.

She closes her eyes and listens to the sound of him undressing.

"This was your big plan?" the voice asks. "Making him mad enough to try and kill you?"

_Not kill. Rape._ she thinks. _I needed relief somehow, and I think...I think maybe I like being on the bottom._

"You haven't had a chance to try being on top yet." the voice says.

_Not yet,_ she thinks. _Maybe once I'm out of here..._

When the voice speaks again, it sounds thoughtful. "So you figured it out, huh?"

_It took longer than it should've,_ she admits. _I have a lot to thank you for._

"Maybe once you get out, you can stop by and thank me properly." the voice says.

_A little masturbation never hurt anybody._ she thinks.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" The voice is still Booker's, the words are hers.

_Yes. I'll be fine._ she tells it.

"You did a good job with the plasmids. You should have just enough energy left for one big outburst."

_Enough to get to Sally? _she asks.

"Enough to get to Sally, and then to me." it assures her. "I'll see you soon."

The whole exchange took less than thirty seconds, by which time Fontaine had gotten undressed and was looming behind her, ogling her. "I wish I'd been the one who took your skirt off." he rumbles throatily. "I hated t' see you go, but I loved watching you walk away." His hands are on her ass now, rubbing, squeezing, pinching, feeling. Elizabeth has to fight hard not to let her excitement show and stay the virtuous unsullied soul he thinks she is. "Please don't." she 'begs'.

"Trust me, doll." He rubs her clitoris vigorously. "When this is over, you'll be saying 'please do'." He lines himself up at her entrance. "I've never been one for child support." he says slowly. "But if all this goes accordin' t' plan, you'll be long gone by the time any, uh...'complications' show up."

"No...no..." she 'begs'. She can almost hear the satisfied grin on his face as he shoves his way in. "No! No! No! Oh...god...oh god..." She hopes she sounded sufficiently weepy, and she did feel like crying, but for a different reason.

"Damn." Fontaine hisses. "Now that IS my luck. I get to deflower a girl and take over Rapture in one fuckin' night!"

In another ocean, Elizabeth saves herself for marriage. In another ocean, she saves herself for someone special. But here, in this ocean, she just wants it too badly to wait. There will be time for love later, if she's lucky. Now, though, now it's time for sex. _Fucking_, she corrects herself as he starts to move inside her. _Fucking. Fuck. Fuck me._

She throws in a few more whimpers and cries for mercy, but when he picks up the pace, they almost become genuine. "I can't-I can't take it any more!" she wails and he laughs darkly.

"And you say...?"

"Wh-what do I say?"

He stops and her heart almost stops as well. "You say 'thank you mister Fontaine, may I have another?'"

"Thank...thank you mister Fontaine, may I have another?" she repeats.

"'May I have another, SIR?'" he says.

"May I have another, sir?"

"Another what?" he asks cruelly.

"Another...fucking, sir?" She's this close to breaking the illusion... He still isn't moving. "Please fuck me sir." she begs.

"That's more like it!" He pounds her, harder and harder and harder and harder. Her nails tear into the fine oak carpentry. Her eyes roll back in her head. Yet somehow, through all the noise and the pleasure and the oh god I believe in magic, she manages to keep crying and struggling like she doesn't want it. She can feel it coming, like she's opening a tear inside her very body. It just keeps building and building until she feels like she's going to explode...

And in a way, she does.

* * *

She doesn't remember what happens next. She must've passed out. She has a dim recollection of Fontaine putting on Atlas's clothes and his face and his voice, and then it all goes dark.


	5. Epilogue

The ceiling high above swims into focus, the tiles bright and new and covered with beautiful paintings that she can't quite make out. Every now and then, a bird will go _chirrup_ somewhere outside, just barely audible over the distant sound of hundreds upon hundreds of what might be engines of some sort, stopping, starting, roaring, churning, speeding through the city below. She slowly raises her head, trying to figure out where she's ended up. She's lying in a beautiful plush bed, still naked. The silken sheets against her battered and weary skin is like tactile ambrosia. The pillows are deep and soft and she finds herself sinking back down onto them before she can examine the room. Her eyes flutter closed. She's still melting from the afterglow. Even thinking about it is enough to make her feel a little shaky. Wandering the dimly-lit halls in that alluring skirt and blouse, and then in nothing at all... Not to mention the spanking! "You'd have to be crazy not to get turned on by it." she murmurs to herself.

"Are you still talking to yourself?" another voice asks. It's...her again. She tries to get up, but someone pushes her back down against the bed. "Hey, take it easy." the owner of the voice tells her as she comes into focus. "You need to rest. You've been through a lot."

"You would know." Elizabeth says softly, settling reluctantly back into her pillow.

The other Elizabeth nods with a smile. Her hair is long and beautiful, just like it was the day she met him. Her dress however is not the one she herself had worn. Instead, it's tight and modest, white with black stripes: one around the middle, one around the upper chest, one around the high-rise collar, and one for each of the cuffs. The bow is different too, Elizabeth notices, as the other her tilts her head and smiles fondly. It's red to her blue. _Constants and variables,_ they both think at once. "How'd you do it?" Elizabeth asks.

The other Elizabeth shrugs. "I jumped around a lot. Wound up in a place where they'd invented artificial telepathy: a machine that lets you send your own thoughts. After I...borrowed it, it was just a matter of adjusting it to your particular 'wavelength'. It wasn't too different from my own, just enough to make it fun."

Elizabeth looks at her doppelganger, the corner of her mouth quirking upward in amusement. "You sure like to talk." she says. She wishes she could muster up the strength to kiss her.

The other Elizabeth almost blushes. "I'm sorry. I guess I started to get lonely after..." Elizabeth's smile fades. Suddenly she feels like crying. "Go ahead." the other girl says, like she's reading her mind. "You sound as though you need it."

Elizabeth fights back tears angrily. She pretends she doesn't want to get the sheets wet. The other Elizabeth lays down on the bed beside her, reaching beneath the sheets and wrapping a delicate white hand around hers. Elizabeth closes her eyes again, but the dams have begun to break. The final blow comes when Elizabeth feels _her_ lips upon her own in a gentle and almost-but-not-quite-sisterly kiss. She can't take it any more; she breaks down, breaks away from herself and just starts sobbing silently. The other girl pulls her in tight, and Elizabeth feels her start to cry as well. They cling to each other in silent grief, mourning the death of innocence, the death of her father, the death of the Songbird, but most of all for her finger, for the idle and calamitous cruelty of the Luteces, for the hundreds of men, women and children that had to die for this moment to come about.

After a while, the other Elizabeth plants a trembling kiss upon the older one's head and says, "He's waiting."

"I know." Elizabeth whispers. She can see him now. They both can. "But I...I don't want to go..." They can't tell what will happen once the change occurs, how much of her will stay with Anna while she grows. Sometimes she forgets. Sometimes she doesn't forget; she remembers everything. The why remains elusive. There are some things these two will not, cannot see, no matter what they end up choosing. Omniscience is a variable. Chalk it up to the whims of the universe, the laws even ElizabethAnna ComstockDeWitt must obey.

The older one suddenly remembers Sally. "Sally?" she calls, sitting up and looking around the luxuriously furnished room. She's not there.

"You left her in Rapture," the younger one says. "She'll be safe. But it's not over for her. She still has a part to play."

Elizabeth doesn't remember this, but she doesn't have to. She sorts through the pictures in her mind, and then she knows why. "She kills him." _"Get him!" the little girl shrieks, falling down onto the hulking misshapen brute. She stabs him in the neck with her needle. Others come to join her. _"She kills Fontaine."

"They all do." the other Elizabeth says. "Jack, Sally, Bridget, Liselle-" She would go on but her lips are currently busy. Elizabeth runs her hands down the younger girl's back, pulling teasingly at the clasps of her conservative white dress. "You talk too much." she tells her huskily when she breaks away. The other girl nods breathlessly.

"Are you going to spank me for it?" she asks almost hopefully.

"Now there's a thought..." Elizabeth murmurs, planting a kiss behind the younger one's ear, then below the ear and all the way down her neck in a spiraling arc until she can go no further. The neckline of the dress is in her way. She leaves another trail of kisses behind her as she inches up the other girl's neck, who moans softly. Elizabeth claims the girl's mouth with her own, all the while struggling with the dress. Frustrated, she props herself up on her elbow and leans over the other Elizabeth, attempting to get a better view of the problem. The long-haired one takes the opportunity to let her hands do some wandering of their own. She finds the older girl's bottom and gives it a firm squeeze. Elizabeth yelps and moves back to glare at her counterpart. "I thought you said you wanted a spanking, not that you wanted to _give_ one." she growls playfully.

"We have time for both, don't we?" the other Elizabeth asks.

"A woman after my own heart." Elizabeth says approvingly.

"Why bother? I already have it." the younger girl grins before rolling away and off the bed to her feet. She hurries over to the full-length mirror beside the table, which in turn is within spitting distance of the door, and begins a frantic struggle to undo her dress. Elizabeth climbs out from beneath the sheets and makes her way to the other girl, swaying her hips like she learned how to do in Rapture. The effect is even more stunning when she's not wearing anything. "Could you give me a hand with this?" the other Elizabeth asks, having failed to notice the little sashay. Between them, they manage to unlace it and help her out of it. She lays it gently over the table before turning back to her lover. "We still have the corset to do." she says apologetically. "And the stockings. And the...underwear."

"I'd rather just do _you_." Elizabeth's voice is sultry and dark. The other Elizabeth blushes.

"First things first." she says.

The corset takes substantially longer, in part because the younger Elizabeth keeps running her hands over her older self's body. She's careful to avoid the place between Elizabeth's legs, but she lavishes attention on her breasts, which are just barely bigger than her own. Once or twice, the older girl tries to tell her to stop, but that just makes her use her mouth instead of her hands, swirling her tongue round and round Elizabeth's nipples until Elizabeth's legs give out beneath her and they both tumble to the floor, the soft heavy carpet absorbing most of the impact. The younger one lands on top. She can't stop giggling at the absurdity of the situation. She just made herself...cum, and now she's lying atop herself, barely clothed and not clothed at the same time. The older one smiles shakily, then tugs her lover down for another kiss.

* * *

In a tangled mess of limbs and love, they make their way back to the bed, now fully naked and glistening with sweat. Elizabeth's makeup is beginning to run. She's surprised it didn't happen sooner. She's surprised this is happening at all. "Is this incest-" she whispers as the other Elizabeth nuzzles her neck lovingly. "-or...?"

"It's not incest," the other Elizabeth says into her neck. She surfaces and looks down into her lover's eyes. "What the Luteces do, that isn't incest. It's just..." She leans in and kisses Elizabeth, slipping her tongue into her mouth for the first time. "...learning to love yourself." she finishes.

"It's masturbation." Elizabeth breathes.

"MUTUAL masturbation," the other Elizabeth corrects her. "From what I hear, you need all the help loving yourself you can get."

"So what are you waiting for?" Elizabeth asks. The girl grins and disappears beneath the bedsheets. Elizabeth has always been a quick learner, and her younger self is too. Her tongue slides in and out of Elizabeth's lower lips, lapping and twirling, thrusting and poking (as much as a tongue can at any rate). The feel of her long beautiful hair brushing the skin beneath Elizabeth's navel doesn't help matters, and soon she cums, clenching her hands tight as the pleasure pulses through her and moaning her name. "Oh god, Elizabeth..." she whimpers. The other Elizabeth pokes her head out from under the sheets.

"That good huh?" she asks.

Elizabeth can hardly find the words. "Let me show you." she says and wiggles down to join herself.

Her younger self is merciless. Even as Elizabeth settles in between the other girl's legs, the girl returns to her ministrations, coaxing her to a third and sudden, but by no means last, orgasm of the morning. Elizabeth gives as good as she gets however; maybe even better, if the state of the other Elizabeth's backside when all is said and done is any indication.

* * *

She leaves herself and the past behind, diving headlong into the future. It won't be easy, whichever way the universe chooses, but somehow she knows it'll be all right. She has Booker, after all. And he has her.


End file.
